Seeing her like this: so vibrant, so full of life: it was a sharp contrast that he didn't like, especially with the bitter memories of the future.
Of course at this point, she didn't know what she would do in the future, and if someone told her that she would do such a thing, she would argue with that person and deny it.
That was fair. It was ten years in the future. Whatever had occurred that had changed Lily enough to make that decision had not occurred now. So she was still innocent, which meant in the eyes of morality and relationships, she was still... a good person.
But... that didn't mean that Darren should forgive her, and even though he should, he couldn't. He couldn't look into her face without seeing the Lily Smithers who cheated on him.
And even more so, the Investor System was right:
┏In regards to her betrayal and the CEO of Moon Enterprise being her father, the system advices that you cut all ties with Lily Smithers as she offers you no meaningful aid in your journey┛
WARNING: ┏Cut all ties with Lily Smithers. Financial losses have been foresighted in your future if she remains acquainted with you┛
Darren didn't need to be told. Lily Smithers was dead to him.
"Darren?" Lily tilted her head, concern creeping into her voice. "Are you okay? You look… pale."
"I— yeah," he managed to say, his voice hoarse as he took her hands off his neck. "I'm fine. Just… caught off guard."
"Well, don't scare me like that!" she said with a playful pout, releasing him. "You're lucky I found you. My dad's looking for you, and you really don't want to be late again. It's the third time this week, you know."
Darren nodded, coldly turning away to drop his briefcase by the table. "Thanks for the heads-up, Lily."
Lily frowned, staring at him. "Darren?!"
He paused. Then turned to look at her. "Mhm?"
She folded her arms. "Are you mad at me or something?"
Darren narrowed his eyes, and nonchalantly shook his head. "Why would I be mad at you?"
Sandy, who had been observing the interaction stretched her lips down comically as it now felt she was intruding. "Oh my, would you look at that. I almost forgot Mr. Smithers' copy of the income of... Yeah... Better go get it!"
She pulled her chair back and got to her feet then left the room.
Lily frowned unhappily, not looking at Sandy as she left. "Come on, Darren. Please tell me if I did something wrong."
"You haven't done it yet," he murmured inaudibly.
"What was that?"
"Nothing," he answered straightly. "I'm just a little overwhelmed with things today. That's all."
Lily's face softened, understanding that it had to do with his mother. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pushed you," she said, grabbing his arm. "Come. Let's get together before Dad blows a gasket."
She tried to pull him forward, but Darren stood still, and she was drawn back. Then he freed himself of her grasp, leaving her confused and speechless.
"I can get there on my own," he said with dejection. Then, he walked past her and headed for the door while she watched him leave with her heart wrenched.
Darren stopped halfway but didn't turn to face her. "Look. I'd like to be on my own today. So, if you don't mind keeping your distance."
Lily gazed at him, hand on her chest, eyes sad but even more shocked. "O...kay," she stuttered weakly.
And as she watched, Darren left the office with no more words said, leaving her confused and torn. What did she do? Why was he being so cold and mean to her?
Darren walked silently through the noise of others doing their work in their office chairs. Someone threw a folded paper at him, but missed wildly. He didn't bother turning to see who it was.
He approached Gareth Smithers' office, seeing the door ahead, an intimidating slab of dark mahogany with a polished brass nameplate gleaming at eye level. Gareth Smithers – CEO.
But Darren wasn't very intimidated now. He knew exactly how most of this conversation was going to go even though he could not remember all of it. So, he was prepared.
Standing by the door, he tightened his grip on the handle of his suitcase, squared his shoulders, and pushed it open without knocking.
The office was as ostentatious as Darren remembered. Sunlight streamed in through floor-to-ceiling windows behind an enormous glass desk that seemed to float in midair. The room was framed by shelves of leather-bound books, undoubtedly for show, and abstract art pieces that screamed wealth without meaning.
A plush, cream-colored rug softened the floor, and two sleek armchairs sat opposite the desk, their leather gleaming under the light. Everything in the space was curated to convey power and sophistication.
Seated behind his powerful desk, Gareth Smithers, who appeared surprised that Darren dared open his door without knocking, decided to ignore it.
Though his sharp, angular features were fixed in a scowl and his steely gray eyes were in slits as they locked onto Darren. He had fine blond hair like his daughter, although she was turning it silver, and he wore a tailored navy suit that spoke of obscene wealth.
Even as a man in his early fifties, he carried himself with the arrogance of someone who believed time would bend to his will.
"You're late, Steele," Gareth growled, his voice cold and clipped. He didn't rise from his chair, instead leaning back, fingers steepled. "Again."
Darren bit back the first retort that came to mind by tightening his jaw. When he calmed down, he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him more carefully than he had opened it.
"Sorry, traffic," he replied flatly, though his tone carried no trace of apology.
Gareth scoffed, shaking his head. "Traffic. Of course. You've got excuses for everything, don't you? I should've known better than to expect punctuality from someone like you."
First strike.
Darren paused for a second and he lifted his eyes to catch Gareth's face. For a fleeting moment there, he let the hate rise to the surface.
The man's face, so smug and self-assured, triggered a flood of memories — Gareth's cold indifference when Darren had begged for help, the calculated exploitation of his work, the betrayal that had shattered his life.
'You're the reason my world fell apart,' Darren thought, his fingers itching to slam his fist into that smug face.
Gareth's voice cut through his thoughts. "Jesus. You're looking at me like you wanna kill me." He scoffed. "Let's get to the point. Sit."
Darren didn't move immediately, and Gareth's expression darkened, like he was warning him to take the damn chair. With a sigh of exasperation, Darren walked to one of the armchairs and sank into it, crossing his legs.
Gareth leaned forward, his chair creaking. "I have only one question for you. How do you do it, Steele?"
Darren raised an eyebrow, pretending like he didn't know what he was saying. "Do what?"
"Don't play coy with me," Gareth snapped, sitting forward. "The financial suggestions you've made — all of them, and I mean all of them — have been spot on. You calculated the earnings and losses they made. Sandy couldn't do it, but you did."
"I was hesitant and unsure, but you submitted your graph and your calculations and you told me to invest in that tech start-up before anyone even knew its name, and now it's skyrocketed. Last week, your financial plan for the Jameson Company helped them make over three hundred million in five days! How? How do you know so much about finance and business? About the stock market?"
Darren met Gareth's gaze, his expression carefully neutral. He could feel the man's frustration simmering, and it brought him a grim sense of satisfaction.
"I just do. I was the best graduating student. Or have you forgotten?"
"Hmm. That is true." Gareth agreed. 'But what this kid has is not just knowledge gathered from school. Even though it pains me to say it as this trash is dating my daughter, he is talented with numbers. How they rise and how they fall. I should find a way to lock him into my company and use him as much as I can.'
Darren leaned forward, deciding to test the CEO. "I begged for early pay, sir, to cover my mother's hospital bills, you said—"
"I don't do early pay, Steele! You earn as you work!" the man boomed. "Look at you, an insolent brat from nothing. It's just your first month here as a paid intern and you're already asking for early pay!"
Darren tilted his head. "It's my first month, and I've already made you more profit than most of your employees. Yet, you can't help me. A young adult in need with nowhere else to go."
Gareth frowned, narrowing his eyes. 'What's going on with this kid? Where is he getting this audacity from to speak to me like this? Yesterday, he was ready to worship me simply because he was still so grateful to be working here. Now, it's like he's a whole new person.'
"I registered her there, didn't I? I think I've done enough," he replied disdainfully.
Darren's gaze hardened. "That's what you said. You didn't even blink, Gareth. My mother was dying, and you couldn't be bothered to care.Yes, you're right. You have done enough, and I won't let you do anything more."
Gareth opened his mouth to retort, but Darren cut him off.
"I know now," Darren continued with a cold tone. "That's why..." He reached into his suitcase and pulled out a neatly folded letter, placing it on the desk with deliberate precision. "...I'm turning in my resignation."
Gareth's eyes widened. "What?!"